


God Makes No Mistakes

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Cognitive Dissonance, Father Gabriel’s POV, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Terminus (Walking Dead), Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8859406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: Father Gabriel is curious about strange noises he keeps hearing in the middle of the night. One day he chooses to investigate the matter and, as it turns out, he gets more than he bargained for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For all pervy squirrels out there <3 
> 
> Betaed and brainstormed by MermaidSheenaz <3

It was way past midnight when Daryl finally ended his shift and came quietly through the door. The whole group has bunkered up in a spacious living room on the first floor of an abandoned house. It was cosy, and the space on the floor gave them plenty room to stretch comfortably on their sleeping bags. With all of them asleep, quiet in the dead of the night, Father Gabriel could slowly inch his makeshift bed a bit closer to the shadowed corner of the room. He had a plan - a plan that involved finding out the source of the odd noises he had been hearing for the past few weeks. Shuffling, rustling, small sounds which reminded him of night animals. They were always coming from the corner of whatever room they found themselves in for the night, and this time, Gabriel was determined to stay awake and actually _see_ what was going on.

He had been fighting sleep for more than a few hours, keeping his eyes closed but his mind whirring. He placed his sleeping bag in a way that made it possible for him to open his eyes and see the corner, but still be obscured by the shadow of the nearby table. He had lain down on his side, closed his eyes and waited. The time went by and he had just started to get more than sleepy, ready to call it a night, when Daryl stepped through the door, switching watch with Abraham, the huge ginger with the booming voice and unbearable attitude. The hunter was silent when he traipsed through the bodies to wake Abraham, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a few whispers, before the man rose and walked out to take his shift. Daryl then stepped carefully around the few bodies on his way and got to the corner.

Gabriel’s eyes widened when he saw the bundle of blankets move as soon as Daryl stepped closer to the sleeping bag. It was surprising that someone had been able to go over there unnoticed when the father was so close to the bag, but when Gabriel made out the face, the shock quickly melted away. It was Rick Grimes, their leader, and, Gabriel reckoned, if there was one person who could surprise him besides Daryl, it would be Rick.

From the first moment he had met their leader, Gabriel had been sure that Rick was one of those people who were so rough, their softer sides were totally damaged. He was ruthless, had zero sense of humor, and stared at everyone who dared to disagree with him with a deadly glare. He looked dangerous with his sharp eyes and long beard, lean but strong, with quick moves and the Python at his hip, always ready to strike. For Gabriel, Rick was a bit like Moses, leading his people through the desert, long beard only adding to his almost biblical appearance.

And now, when Gabriel had him right in his sight, he couldn’t stop looking. The pale moonlight falling through the window illuminated Rick’s features perfectly. His cheekbones were sharp, the strong line of his jaw dulled out by the overgrown stubble… even his wild curls framed his head in a strangely mystical fashion, giving it a halo when the moon illuminated them.

Daryl was there, too, his ever-present winged vest dark in the shadows around them. Gabriel watched as Daryl cast one long look over the whole room, before he looked back at Rick. The impossibility of the situation made for only one explanation, especially that their gazes had something meaningful to them, something loaded and almost vibrating in the quiet of the night around them. Gabriel tried not to breathe too loudly when Rick reached out with one hand and grabbed Daryl’s shirt, tugging him closer. There was this raw strength to him again, almost like if he wanted to make sure that other man would not disappear. But Daryl didn’t resist. He kneeled next to Rick and let himself be pulled down, propping himself up on outstretched arms, looking down at their leader, hovering over him like an angel sent to aid mortals in the darkest hour.

Gabriel was so entranced with Daryl’s posture, with how the moonlight illuminated the wings on his back, that he didn’t even notice Rick’s leg coming up. The next thing he knew, Rick was rolling them around, settling on top of Daryl, staring at him with eyes glittering in the shadows. Daryl blinked up at him, lips parting and closing, forming words, but nothing came out. There wasn’t a sound, and Gabriel started to wonder if this man was really an angel, whispering prophecies and God’s words at Moses, words silent to anyone who wasn’t holy enough to hear them. It didn’t last long. And maybe Moses was not happy with what he heard from God, because a moment later, Rick leaned down quickly, pressing his lips to Daryl’s. It didn’t look like a _thank you_ to the Creator. It looked like if Rick tried to shut the angel up, as if he tried to stop the flow of words with aggressive teeth and intrusive tongue.

The angel was still whispering, tugging at Rick’s jacket when his arms had come up to wrap around Rick’s shoulders, he was moving underneath him, as if the holy spirit was coursing through his veins. But Rick would have none of it. He just settled on him heavily, crushing the godly messenger, pinning him to the ground without a care to what would happen to his wings. It must have been unpleasant, because Daryl tried to arch back up, successing only in pressing himself against the unmovable bulk of Rick’s body hunched over him, staying in place as if the devil himself was sitting on him. And maybe that was what made Moses doubt his Master, maybe that’s why, when the Angel tried to whisper something else, Rick pressed their lips together again, harder than before, as if he wanted to steal all the words to himself.

The whispers must have been coming from God, for Gabriel felt a shiver crawling up his spine. His body was slowly coming to life the more he watched the struggle before his eyes, the angel pawing at the doubting mortal, the God himself trying to get Moses back on the right path. But the doubt must have been too great to overcome, for in the next moment, Rick was tugging at Daryl’s clothes, seemingly in a rush to disrobe him. Maybe it was to lay him bare and feast his eyes upon the godly creature, or maybe it was to feel the connection, Gabriel wasn’t sure. But something in the way he looked at Daryl, once his heaving chest was uncovered, was so animalistic that the shiver in Gabriel’s body turned electric. Here it was, the human nature, low and undeserving of the great blessing of God, sizing up the holiness like a predator would its prey.

Gabriel tried not to move too much around as he adjusted his position. His body started to ache in strange places, just like if God was trying to tell him to watch the scene he had put before his very eyes. His whole being perked up and his eyes strained to listen to the soft whispers coming from Rick. There was something wild and meaningful in his dark, sparkling eyes which fell shut slowly when Daryl placed one hand gently on his cheek. It was delicate, just like a touch of the Almighty would be, no doubt spreading love and care through the savage man. When Rick opened his eyes again, his gaze was different. It was softer, full of some kind of unearthly energy that seemed to vibrate across the room and touch Gabriel with its tendrils, making him swallow around the lump suddenly forming in his throat. There was an ache in his abdomen, a dull throb of sparkling pleasure, but Gabriel ignored it, too focused on what he was seeing.

Rick leaned down again, but this time when he touched his lips to Daryl’s, they were tender and gentle, not demanding, not _aggressive_. Gabriel stared in surprise as Rick slowly licked his way into Daryl’s mouth, making Daryl arch up again. This time, though, the bow of his back had nothing of crushed wings to it, this time it was as if some magnetic pull was dragging him closer. There was a small sound, a barely-there groan, followed by a quiet gasp, and Gabriel let his eyes wander lower. Daryl’s legs were raised, bent at the knees, feet planted firmly on both sides of Rick and _oh_ , Rick was moving slowly, as if he wanted some of that gold, angelic dust to rub off on him, as if he wanted his whole body to be marked by the Creator’s love.

And then, Rick pulled away, Daryl started to shift on the sleeping bag, and Gabriel tried not to breathe too loudly as the angel started to take off his pants, revealing himself completely to Moses, the awkward dance finished with a long press of lips and wandering hands. There was a small noise, something clicking, and in the next moment, Daryl tossed his head back, biting down on whatever prayer he wanted to cry out. Rick was leaning over him, one of his hands busy somewhere out of Gabriel’s sight, the other running reverent fingers over Daryl’s heaving chest. The sight was like a biblical scene but reversed. In the Holy Book, it was always the mortals being comforted by angels, the love of the Creator pouring out of their ethereal bodies and encompassing sinners in a peaceful glow, leading them into the light. But this scene was different, this was the mortal comforting the angel, touching him gently and shushing all the noises that wanted to break free from his core.

Gabriel watched as Rick leaned further over Daryl, covering him almost completely, pressing his mouth to Daryl’s ear and whispering something feverishly. It looked like a confession, Rick laying out all his sins, making the angel tremble and grab him around the waist as if he was trying not to let him slip into the flames of eternal damnation. And Rick tried to shift, tried to break free, but Daryl kept holding on to him, pressing their bodies together, without doubt letting Rick feel the godly blessings radiating off him. It went on for a while, the animated embrace of shaking limbs and twitching muscles causing little shivers to travel along Gabriel’s spine. And, just when he was about to take inventory of his own body, to find the cause of why was it acting so strange, maybe to touch some of that sacred energy he was thrumming with, Gabriel froze.

Rick had straighten up, leaning back and looking down at his angel. His eyes were half closed, and his body jerked unevenly, and Gabriel’s eyes followed the movement, slipping down their leader’s body. He paused with a hitched breath when he saw one of Rick’s hands moving between his legs, trousers open but still on, wrapped around… Gabriel swallowed. Rick’s member was jutting out, hard and glistening in the moonlight that fell directly on him. Rick’s hand was moving over it, fingers fisted around the thick shaft, rubbing along the length, smearing the wetness from base to tip. There was that small clicking sound again, and Gabriel’s eyes widened when he spotted a small bottle in their leader’s hand. Rick poured some of its contents on himself and spread it with his palm, the speed slowing down as he stroked lazily, eyes focused on the man before him.

Because that’s what it was, that’s _who_ he was, Gabriel realized suddenly. Daryl was a _man_ from flesh and bones, not some kind of an angel coming to aid mortals. He was a man and _Rick_ was a man, and they were about to… Daryl tossed his head back, eyes falling shut and mouth going slack. His profile, illuminated by the moon, had that blissed out expression to it, delicate shadows playing in the darkness around them. His whole body went dead-still, only his hands were moving, flexing desperately in the sleeping bag under him, bunching up the material with a soft rustle. Gabriel’s eyes flickered to Rick once again, going straight to where they were joined together at hips. He couldn’t see much now that Rick was pressing closer - pressing _inside_ , as Gabriel’s mind supplied - but the pale light shining through the window was enough to let him notice how Rick’s chest heaved and how his shoulders twitched, hands clawing at Daryl’s thighs.

The biblical illusion shattered to pieces, and in a blink of an eye, Gabriel was painfully aware that he was watching two men _fucking_. It wasn’t Moses and his angel anymore, it was Rick slipping inside Daryl, staring at him with fiery eyes, as if the hunter was the only thing that mattered on this planet. Gabriel gasped when Rick shifted forward, landing on his arms and looming over Daryl. Still being fully clothed, Rick’s figure covered Daryl’s naked chest, shielding the vulnerable skin from the world. The change of the angle must have done something to them both, because Rick dove down quickly and smashed his mouth into Daryl’s, kissing him with enough strength to make _Gabriel’s_ toes curl. The priest tried not to make a sound as he let one of his own hands travel down his body, settling on his groin. He was as hard as Rick had been a moment ago, and, God help him, _wet_ and _sticky_. He bit his lip as he squeezed himself through the front of his trousers, praying that the flimsy blanket he was covered with wouldn’t give out too much. He started to carefully move his hand, slow strokes, wrapping it around his suddenly throbbing length as much as the material would let him.

He looked back at Rick, whose face was buried in Daryl’s neck, jaw working as he placed slow kisses over the undoubtedly sensitive skin. Daryl was rocking underneath him, hands skimming to Rick’s moving hips, bypassing his own legs wrapped tightly around Rick’s waist, and _oh_ , _when did that happen?_ Their movements created a small noise, some rustling and muffled groans, and Gabriel wondered briefly how it was possible that nobody else reacted. Did they all hear it and didn’t care? Or did they hear it and cared a bit _too much_ , creeping on their leader and his second-in-command just like he was?

He should feel guilty about it, he knew that. But somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, not when Rick changed the angle a bit and Daryl’s whole body jolted, face pressing into Rick’s shoulder as he bit at the material of his jacket, trying to stifle a loud moan. Gabriel’s whole body lit up with that strange energy again, and he tried his best not to make a sound as he plunged his own hand inside his trousers. Wrapping it around his hard member, Gabriel gave himself a few strokes, trying not to dwell too long on what exactly he was doing. The scene before him was making his body sensitive to even the smallest touch, and he drank it in with hungry eyes. The way Rick’s hips moved, the shivers that wracked his body… Daryl’s hands fisted tightly in Rick’s jacket after they had wrapped again around his back… And those soft kisses, as gentle as Rick’s hands, mapping out Daryl’s skin as if he was the most precious thing in the whole world. Gabriel couldn’t believe how careful Rick was, how delicate his fingers were… It was the same hard and gruff man that had scared him shitless a few weeks back. Now he was acting like Daryl had been made of glass and he was afraid of breaking him, even if his body clearly demanded more.

And Daryl… Gabriel had noticed that the man was always there when Rick turned around to ask for advice. He had noticed that Daryl was always there with answers when Rick needed them. At first, Gabriel had been surprised at how at ease Daryl had been every time when Rick had squinted at everyone else, eye-fucking them into obedience. But he had never done that with Daryl, Gabriel suddenly realized. Daryl had never been on the receiving end of Grimes’ deadly stare. And he wasn’t now, not even if Rick’s eyes were boring into him, staring as if they could communicate through gazes alone. The looks that passed between them were the last drop for Gabriel.

He clenched his jaw tightly, doing all he could not to groan aloud when his own body seized and trembled, the evidence of his release splashing hot and sticky in his underwear. He relaxed his grip and tried to control his breathing, trying to be as quiet as he could. After a long moment of peaceful bliss, he opened his eyes a fraction, just in time to see Rick throwing his head back and Daryl opening his lips silently a moment later. Their movement ceased, and they were just panting there, huddled together, with Rick still hunched over him, Daryl’s hands spasming where they were still fisted in the suede.

And then, they started to move, and Gabriel closed his eyes in a hurry, attempting to fake sleep, but it was hard. His underwear was sticky and uncomfortable, and his heart was still beating rapidly in his chest when he thought of what he had just done. He shuddered violently when his thoughts circled back to just how much he enjoyed watching Rick and Daryl together. It wasn’t even that they were both men, Gabriel knew that God loved all his creatures, after all. But him getting aroused and _touching_ himself while watching them? He was going to hell for that, for sure. He would have to beg the Lord for mercy, confess all his sins and ask for forgiveness before the hellfire could consume him whole.

But that would have to wait for tomorrow. For now, Gabriel’s body was calming down and getting pleasantly heavy, and he couldn’t really help it when he slipped into a peaceful sleep. 

 

__________

 

Rick opened his mouth to ask Gabriel something, but the priest only squeaked and turned around, walking away and mumbling something about his knife that he must have left inside the house they were leaving. Rick’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, confusion making him turn to Daryl, who just shrugged and continued with packing up his stuff. Gabriel’s behavior this morning had been weird… well, weirder than usually, that is. It looked almost as if he tried to avoid Rick and Daryl at all cost, jumping away when they got too close, turning around when they looked at him, walking away as soon as he had been asked a question. Rick hoped it wasn’t anything serious, his day had started with a lazy yawn and a sloppy kiss, before they had had to part with Daryl to get their family up and on the road again.

Rick frowned, seeing as Eugene walked up to Father Gabriel, this time stopping him in his tracks a mere yard away from Rick.  
“I admire your skill, father” Eugene bowed his head with a look of utter respect and went on his merry way to collect his shit and put it inside his backpack. Rick glanced at Daryl, who shrugged again with the ‘ _I_   _have no idea_ ’ look on his face. Rick’s eyes went back to the priest, who looked as if he had just seen the end of the world in some kind of God’s stupid prophecy. He was staring at Rick with his eyes wide, looking for all the words like a deer caught in the headlights, and Rick decided to give him a serious eyefuck, just to be sure he wouldn’t try anything stupid. He still didn’t trust this guy, so whatever he may have been up to could potentially be dangerous.

Besides, Rick didn’t have time to dwell on this for too long. He desperately wanted to get their family to some safe place, to settle down, even if for the next night. And they couldn’t lose the light of day they had. Not when Rick planned on spending his night in Daryl’s arms again. He smiled to himself, watching Daryl, thinking on how he should try to ransack a few houses on their way, maybe find some more lube because they were running low. He wanted to surprise Daryl, let him take the evening shift again just so Rick could open himself up and get Daryl to fuck _him_ this time. It was impossible when the lube was usually in Daryl’s rucksack and he wanted to add this little element of surprise.

Rick sighed, squinting at the sun shining high above them. Time to go. He sent one last serious stare in Gabriel’s direction, making him squeak and start walking to the main road, before he picked up his machine gun and set off, too.


End file.
